Ulfhednar
by TakaShira
Summary: HIATUS. Lypiphera Sequal. His parents loved with a love so strong that slew all it touched, then gave birth to the world anew. Now their son charted his course along the winds of their damnation.
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Now we are trying something new here ladies. First person writing. It may not be perfect I've never written like this so give me a moment to gather my wits and let's see how far it lasts. 

Here we have the Sequal to Lypiphera. Now do not be alarmed but Dilandau and Phenyana will not be attending us here, allow me to introduce to you their son and heir to the world...

* * *

His parents loved with a love so strong that slew all it touched, then gave birth to the world anew. They conquered Gaea for love of each other for love of him, and the hate of war and pain. Both of which they knew so well. Each with their reasons intertwined in perverse perfection.

Now their son charted his course along the winds of their damnation.

So much like his father, so cold and ruthless. More controlled like his mother with compassion and strength. Determined like them both to lead the world from darkness.

* * *

I am known to the world as Azrael Ren Albatou. Son of the great General and King Dilandau Albatou of the fallen Ziabach and his mistress, Queen Phenyana of Drujan, the only Anguisette to be born in living memory. I am also King of Gaea, and Lord of the new Helgaite that stands within the center of it all.

My parent wrought havoc on this world in which we now reside, they burned it to the ground and built an empire upon the ashes. I know. I was there.

I was born not even a year into the campaign that my father, Lord Dilandau, lead against the rest of the world, intent to lead them from war and tragedy into a new light. Six years after their union was acknowledged upon my conception the last of the free countries fell. The last of the cowards submitted to my father's strength, my mother's compassion. So the world lived under one name, and prospered for nineteen glorious years.

I prospered as well, in the world my parents gave me. I grew into a handsome youth with my mother's dark coloring, my father's warrior caste. I grew tall and lean, limbs graceful, and lengthy. My mother taught me to move with a subtlety, my father gave me the presence of power.

Then tragedy struck. My mother fell ill and passed. Some say she was killed by my father's hand, directly, indirectly, it was no matter to them. I would never and will never believe it and have sentenced a good many to death for such slanderous words. Joyfully I may add.

No, she was the longest living Anguisette in the history of out mother planet. The hell master's daughter was never one to live long given the reason for their very creation. That did not diminish my father's unfailing love for her. Their relationship may have been violent and combative, but neither would have had it any other way. The loved each other, I saw it like no other could have being a product and the recipient of that same love.

After that my father revisited the insanity of his youth no longer held in check by my mother willingness to endure. She had spent her life accepting the back of his hand so that the world would be safe from his madness. He was kept in check by being allowed to unleash untold furies onto the woman he loved. The woman he could never even bring himself to try to replace despite the demands of his citizens. Two years later he to perished by his own hand intent on reuniting with my mother. I know. I was there. He told me his reasoning in his last moment of clarity before he fell on his blade.

And so I saw both my parents die and inherited the world at the tender age of twenty six.

Fear not though, I am not naive, innocent nor stupid. My parents taught me well and always saw to my broadened education. My father taught me strength, my mother infinite compassion. The rest competent instructors, foreign tutors and trusted companions saw to.

It's not to say I have no faults. On the contrary, I've also inherited, in part, my father's absence of mind due to his past life as an experiment of Ziabach. From my mother the marque that lines my spine.

Hers was etched in black, mine in ash gray as the child of a devil's mistress. As such I also received the harsh desires my father loved my mother for. Had I been a woman I'd have preferred to receive the sting of the lash, alas I am not and prefer to deal it out instead, all the better.

No one knows why an Anguisette's child is such, perhaps the lance of the dark lord pricks me to through my mother's blood.

No matter, I am how I am. Slightly less then sane, slightly more violent then most, but compassionate for my people none the less.

Now I am twenty nine though I feel much much older due to the strain of duty. I've tried to rule the world my parents built for me with strength and justice. I care for my people though true love eludes me still. Therefore despite the best efforts of those around me I remain unbound and without an heir to secure my father's line.

Perhaps that is because I am not willing to settle for the normality of love. No I am in pursuit of the love my parent's shared. Alas, such a thing is not borne often, I will never find my own Anguisette, I may not even find a woman willing to fall to her knees before me to accept the insanity that at times overcomes me.

Sword play can only do so much to quell it, quench the blood lust my father saw fit to leave me with.

Without a doubt though if my world was ever threatened I'd kill without question.

So brings us to the day my world, my parent's legacy, my everything became threatened, and the demon who brought the words.

But from one thing another is born.

I remember the day monsters of the north entered my realm in search of aide and assistance.

The day began like every other though, by my honoring my parents. I have their likenesses carved into marble and kept within my chambers of office.

So the day went on and I soon found myself ushered into my throne room by overbearing old men known as advisors.

My father hated them, my mother hated them, and now I hate them, with something of biased prejudice I'm sure, but none the less if they all died on unnatural causes at my feet the chance of my smiling would be fairly high. But they are a necessity when the leader of the world is saw to be slightly less then completely sane.

Something I hate almost as much as my damned advisors is the damned robes of office I'm required to wear in these such meetings.

Black and a red so deep it borders on black, sangoire it is called. It has been proclaimed unlawful for anyone other then an Anguisette, or a child of such to wear it, my mother appreciated such things.

My father favored one, my mother the other and so I incorporated the two into and regal attire I was forced to acquire. I kept it in the traditional manner my father had established. Functional armor though not nearly enough to give me full protection much to my discomfort.

So here I sat atop my father's throne swathed in fabric that if need occurred, would have been difficult to attend combat.

Then again I do have soldiers in ridiculous numbers to prevent such need.

"My Lord,"

The voice caught my attention and I respectfully gave my attention to the tall man at my side.

Gatti Banitki, a former Dragon Slayer under my father's command. He is the only advisor I respect, partially because he was one of my few instructors in the arts of the blade. My father did play his part and would have enjoyed to partake in the pastime of the sword more often but situations never allowed. So his Slayer's took over in his stead and when their commander died their unfailing loyalty passed onto me. In which I am thankful. They are my family.

Gatti is one of the few still alive and the only one residing here in the capital with me.

The others; Miguel, governs the original holdings of the empire and Dalet who rules from former Ziabach and the nations nearest to the past failed empire.

The others have all perished.

Guimel had been the first to perish, and in doing so fouled an assassination attempt on my father in the early years of the empire.

Chesta took my father's death the hardest and vowed to serve his lord and lady even in death following his general's actions and falling on his sword in the presence of his remaining 'brother' Slayers.

Viole undertook death only a year ago. His wife had passed trying to bear their first child. Viole, the great lover never overcame the loss.

To those who may doubt it, I have been surrounded by love my entire life in one way or another.

With that in mind, I despise each day I go without that which I've lain witness too, and so I fear fall further and further into the well of madness.

"My Lord," Gatti repeated pulling my out of my mind, as often is needed. He tells me even more often that my father was much the same, always lost in thought and memory.

I nodded my consent to hear him out though it was not needed except for mere show of authority and respect. My other advisors were always quick to point out if either was in lacking from any party.

"They are waiting to be conducted."

I nodded again never one to waste words with the former Slayers. There was no need, they knew my father so well and therefore know at least half of my own nature.

I glanced at the doors opposite me awaiting the arrivals of those who had come in seek of favor.

I knew what they were, how could I not. Even if my advisors had not sought out every detail on the visitors I'd still know more then my fair share.

My mother was a fan of tales involving those who were not of the norm variety. These people were some of her favorites, that alone saved them when they refused to join the empire proclaiming themselves to remain independent though respectful.

The Lykae clan was legendary. They rarely ventured south from their snowy mountain region, that did not mean the world was oblivious to them.

More then the man beasts that freely roamed the lands. These were the original animals in man flesh. Wolves amidst humanity. Immortals among mortals.

My father had respected them, felt a kinship with their wild culture and taught me to do so as well. My mother loved their ability to change nature at will. I often suspected she would have cherished such a gift.

All of that knowledge didn't truly help me when the door opened. Despite my preparation and respect of their kind i was not ready for what I was about to face.

A handful of massive wolves poured through smoothly, completely unconcerned when a plethora of the palace guards went for the hilt of blades. A number of the canines would have reached my ribs without question, even though I did stand at 6'1". All of various color, shades of blacks or gray, a few dappled brown, even a gold.

Next came the horrific parody of man beast.

Some were further in the changes then others, crouched low moving on four long lean limbs while others moved on two hind legs. All had muzzles of various length. Ears were sharp and tipped, naked bodied were cloaked in thick fur and tails followed those who flowed into the room.

Lastly came two figures of moderate normality. Absent of any features that were wolf like they certainly appeared to be human, but those who came before them parted almost naturally giving me my first clear view of the Pack Alpha and his child.

Odin had led the pack since before my father's time, though it was much smaller in the past then it is now, not that the Alpha himself had ever been smaller, and if he had it was hard to visualize.

While the species were known something amidst the lines of "gods among dogs", Odin himself was a giant amidst men. The sun on snow had darkened his flesh his long mane of hair was even darker then my own. The man kept in the nature of his pack wearing little as it only delayed any physical changes, meaning only dark leather pants, and an open jerkin displaying a barrel chest with an intimidating mass of muscle.

It was the woman next to him who caught my eye.

Her sun kissed shade of flesh echoed that of her father, but that was where any resemblance ceased. She was tall, not as tall as myself but easily towered over the woman of my court. As with many of the pack, she went unshod, for reasons I could only assume had to do with the change they undertook to become the wolves that now prowled my throne room.

She wore dark leather pants were almost indecently low and were laced up the sides to allow for easy removal, as was her sleeveless tunic. A thick fur collar fell over her shoulders and one could easily see the strip of flesh from neck below navel. Her torso was covered, but barely so, the tunic was held closed by a strained strip of leather that laced back and forth like one would see in the back of a corset.

Also unlike the man she stood next to who was weaponless, she had a well crafted crossbow slung across her back and two shiv blades that hung low on her nearly exposed hips.

Her pale hair hung in a loose braid over one of her shoulders and when her eyes pierced my own a near shock ran through me.

My father's eyes, or near enough. Perhaps not the exact shade but none the less the satisfactory shade of red was startling. Hers were darker, more like fresh blood spilled in the nearing night, and the shape was different, narrowed, but the wild manner that dwelt within was still the same. Though the lack of insanity told me she was far more controlled then my father could have ever been.

Then she and her father bowed and those eyes broke away from me.

"My Lord Azrael," the Odin started in his thunderous voice without waiting for proper introduction.

My advisor's were appalled, I merely smiled in amusement. Anything that bothered those ridiculous old men was fine, especially when, if they had their way, half my morning would be wasted.

"Odin, I know of you and your kind, no introduction is needed, but do level the playing field and tell me the name of her."

"This is my daughter, Freya."

"We're pleased to welcome you to civilization Lady Freya."

Her eyes hardened but she didn't shy away from my barb causing a rare and small smile to cross my features in amusement.

Odin stepped forward drawing my attention from his flesh and blood, "My Lord Azrael, we come to you-"

"In search of aid. I know. But what I question is why now? My father offered aid and protection back when the empire was new and you refused. What has changed?"

"Bloods." Odin snarled his voice practically dripping in contempt.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "I know of the Bloods. But you have kept them confined to the North for centuries."

"No longer. Their sudden numbers caught us off guard, we managed to deflect the first wave but another will come. And another after that. And another. We cannot stop them any longer by ourselves, and if they get past us, your empire will cease to exist."

"Bold assumption. So you propose my backing you? Why would I do that? What do you have to offer me that would prevent me from just allowing them to overrun you and meet them at the border. Why should I come to your aid."

"We pledge allegiance."

Freya's cold expression faltered for a moment. She obviously did not approve of such an action. Interesting. But of course the Pack Alpha was beyond the questioning especially by his own family.

For his own daughter to question his decision would have wrought chaos within the ranks of the pack. If his own daughter viewed him as incompetent blood would follow. That would only serve to help the enemies of the North whom they now faced, which was reason enough for her to hold her tongue.

"That is it? Other's have done the same but have still offered more," I waved my hand in dismissal as was appropriate

Odin smiled allowing me to see his white fangs.

"I also pledge half a legion of our new generations fainest warriors. To serve you as you choose here in your capital."

Fifty wolves under my command? Now that certainly upped the stakes. Fifty Lykae easily amounted to a hundred elite men, even if they were young and barely trained, it simply meant they were less controlled and three times as ruthless.

"And in return?" I questioned, I knew enough not to agree at the first sign of favor.

"Soldiers. Supplies. Support. We will meet this threat on our borders. Cut off the head."

I thought for a moment knowing full and well I'd agree with the whimsy of my father. He never had any number of wolves under his command. If he had the Empire would have been made the first year of the campaign.

"I'll need a guarantee. That you'll not betray me or the men I would send with you."

"I thought that you might. Which is why the unit I leave behind is that which runs with my daughter. She will be my guarantee. She will remain here in your court."

I allowed my dark eyes to take in the woman in new interest, she met my gaze unflinching, though her eyes did narrow slightly.

A challenge?

What fun.

I couldn't help but smile, "Fine."

That sent my advisors, with the exception of the former Slayer, into an uproar.

I stood and they silenced themselves, thanks in part to Gatti's menacing glare.

"Come Odin. Let us retire and discuss the matters of our agreement."

I stepped down from the dais as a side door opened to allow us free passage from the chamber.

Freya moved to follow but I stayed her with my hand.

"My dear Lady Freya, why don't you acquaint yourself to our guest quarters. Also don't be shy, the ladies here at court are fine company. Zanar, why don't you attend the lady? Show her the gaming hall."

A fire ignited in those red eyes. Intriguing though I caught a look from Odin out of the corner of my eye that bid his daughter obey.

She gave a stiff bow before turning on her heel leading the wolves and half lings out of the main entrance.

"Defiant?" I glanced at the Alpha who stood at my side.

A booming laugh echoed off the walls, "That doesn't even cover half of it my Lord. I don't know what I'll do with that girl. She's the last of my line and refuses to settle for any mate I offer her. She's determined to find a strong wolf, one that can stand up to her as well as beside her. I almost fear for the pack's future, she's like to kill all those who don't fit her desire."

* * *

Mary Sue Bashers, yes, I do know that Freya is not an Asian name, it is, I do believe, Norse, in fact it is Norse for "lady, mistress, goddess of love", like Ulfhednar the Norse term for their myths on Werewolves (not werewolves in fact but in connection with the shifters/beserkers). The reasoning: Gaea is not Asian. I wish to portray the pack as being from the north there for a Norse name is fitting. I also know Azrael is not an Asian name and I do not care, it suits the purpose. Fancy that...

As for the rest of you, as you can see I've been having trouble with said Mary Sue bashers who seem to thing that ALL of my characters are Sues. In other words, harassment, and it might be starting to have an effect. Basher's cheer I'm sure My perverted twisted personal form of Dilandau, who apparently is so OOC it's not funny, whips out flame thrower and roasts them. Hey maybe screwing up Dilly-boy really does have it's uses.

So I ask you my supposed loyal readers;

ONE: Give my ego a boost here, I've had a rough last month with these ass holes and am presently questioning my talent, shut up already MSB, and if I should continue. In other words, if no one shows interest in this last attempt I quit, that's it. Done.

TWO: Do you think that they are Sues? Do you care if my characters are Sues? I mean you get a good romance story right? That is what you are here for right?

Enter a meek call for help here and please review. Please?

And if flamers must flame please feel free to do so, we all know you don't have lives otherwise, but be warned I'll laugh at you so the ego boost you're trying to give yourself may not work here. But I'd still hate for you to die because you didn't put down enough people today therefore you feel inadequate and kill yourselves.


	2. Chapter 2

No one can not break up a happy marriage

Think about it.

Now I am sorry if Azrael's thoughts are scattered sometimes, but that's how I see him. Unable to keep focus for any length of time, thoughts leading from one to the other in such a whimsical manner. He comes back to his point eventually but in a round about way. That was how I saw his father. Insane and unable to stay on topic with a short attention span.

If you disagree write your own story, this one is mine.

* * *

I do not know if she ever got to the gaming that hall that day, I guess I shall never really know now that I look back. It wasn't really that important, but by mid afternoon Odin and my advisers had finished negotiations, I don't often take part finding them tedious.

One demand made by Gatti was that the Alpha wolf was now to give me a demonstration as to what I had obtained. Smart man, he never was one to buy a horse without first taking it on a hunt.

While my frantic advisers twittered and rushed to get to the training field both Odin and myself forced them back by choosing a more leisurely pace. It wasn't as if they'd chose to leave me to any privacy, especially with a potential ally. Hell forbid that we make some unauthorized agreement without arguing for an hour or so about nothing of real importance.

Sometimes I would just love to run my blade through these bastards who call themselves advisers.

The roar of laughter up ahead caught my ear as we entered through the open doors.

There she was, Freya, stalking the center field lifting her arms repeatedly into the air calling for something from those gathered. A feral grin was firmly in place on her features as she roused another round of noise from those of her nation who lined the walls.

There was another man, dark of flesh, within the circle of combat with her, taller then myself, easily so. A quite smile on his face told me that he too was wolf and the way his pale eyes watched her heatedly told me his intentions with the Alpha's only daughter only too clearly.

"Dranae," Odin supplied as if reading my thoughts as Freya circled once more calling out to those around her, "Sworn to protect my daughter, not that she really needs it."

"He's in love with her," I replied simply.

Odin smiled affectionately his white fangs flashing, "Yes, that he is. And he is the only one within this pack she'd deem worthy of her affections. Too bad she sees him as an older brother, should have kept them separate as pups."

Where our conversation may have turned I will never know as it ended with the sight of his pale haired heir to the pack turning on her heel, twin blades suddenly at hand. The right one snaked out seeking to catch her large opponent in the throat, a would be killing blow by all accounts.

He was expecting it, this Dranae, a protector wolf.

The role of a protector Lykae, or so I know is to do just that, protect. Usually it's the entire pack, occasionally their own 'pack within the pack' and sometimes, like in this case it is an individual. They'd protect said choice until death.

But that was not of interest at this very moment. No at this moment he'd fallen back from her blade's arcing path but her follow through turn and reach with her left blade caught him just under the ribs scoring hot dark blood across the floor.

It startled me. I remember the shock of the sight of that blood even now. I've seen blood more times then I care to count, often enough on my own hands but never during a simple sparing match.

First blood matches, honor duels between pompous nobles, other times by accident or simple mistakes but never one actually seeking to harm the other. Most who trained together knew each other personally, more often then not they were friends, in simple they did not seek to bleed one another.

But these wolves, if they attacked it was with all the heart that they possessed, as if every fight they took part in could be their last, and well it could be now that I think about it.

They often fight to establish the hierarchy of the pack. You kill those who challenge your position, you kill those whose position you've taken, at least that's how is used to be within the pack as is my understanding. Now though they curved their bloody desires to steep the death of their kind.

Yet still, right then before my eyes, they fought to kill no matter the opponent, kill their body or kill their spirit, one was as good as the other, it was breathtaking to me. To watch a woman who had obviously grew up with the man she fought was seeking to beat him by any means possible, even if it meant his death. I for one could never imagine sparing with Gatti or one of the others with that much passion, that much thirst for destruction.

Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy mayhem and destruction as much as the next man, likely more so, but to attack an ally in such a manner in nothing more then a sparing match, while completely unprovoked. It was indescribably really.

But what was truly indescribable was the passion I saw in their eyes.

Completely unhindered. This was what they lived for. The thrill. The violence. The blood of it all. They may not go for the complete kill, but these immortals had a long way to go before death doth thou part.

Breathtaking.

Perhaps this was how my father felt when he saw my mother in the midst of her nature. Right where she belonged.

My mother belonged on her knees, begging for the lash that was within my father's hand but this woman, this Freya. She belonged here. In battle. Blood spattered across her face, that delicate pink tongue snaking out to lap at the metallic taste of life.

An odd taste for life is it not? A bit of irony that the deities blessed us with is it not? Copper in our veins but steel thrust through our bellies will kill us. Interesting.

Dranae lashed out with a heavy fist, barely brushing her abdomen as she leapt back out of his range.

They moved so quickly, speed of the gods running through them. As if time itself did not matter in the world of the wolf.

Freya slipped around her protector easily but by the way his eyes followed her I knew that he was holding back. Was she as well? It was hard to tell. Her eyes spoke of primal desire, her body told of power, nothing spoke against her going all out. Was this Dranae just that much more powerful? If so would he go against wolf nature and lose on purpose, or go against his own protective nature and win?

Interesting to say the least.

Dranae turned his body to follow his desired mate but she stopped without warning lashing out with a heel aimed for the man's sternum, a crushing blow promised by the power she placed behind it.

Yet still, a massive dark sheathed hand struck out, almost dismissively to throw her off balance by striking her calf. Freya turned with the force blow easily.

Circles. Always in circles. Always turning weaving. Circles within circles, her twin blades weaving an indiscernible pattern through the air as she repeated her move, a sharp kick to the middle.

I scoffed but Dranae's pale eyes widened so slightly in surprise. Apparently this Freya was not one to repeat.

The mountain of wolf barely caught hold of her ankle this time holding her at bay.

They stood like that for a second, both serene, smiling ever so slightly at one another as if this had been a routine they'd done every day of their lives. This battle between two formidable forces.

She brought her other leg up, seeming to hover in the air as her second heel went for the giant's skull.

Said giant ducked the blow though, throwing her off balance, only to grip her captured ankle fast and spin around, releasing her at the peak of power, sending her flying, tumbling through the air.

She twisted in the air, shifting before them all from woman to wolf, landing on all fours.

White still doesn't seem the right word for her coat when she shifts shape. There is a just a slight tinge of a pale pale blue held within which makes the blood red of her gaze seem so much more prominent.

"Interesting," an understatement in my own voice but what else was there to say?

* * *

Check out my Forum "Escaflowne: Dilandau's Domain" and C2 "Dilandau OC Romance" for more Dilandau action.

Also I'm in desire of a Beta Reader for Lypiphera and if anyone is up for it Always With You. If I can't get one for AWY then I will probably just take it down.


End file.
